


Once Upon A Time

by kronette



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Adam," she sighed, shifting herself even closer to him as she drifted in and out of sleep. </p>
<p>Methos closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against her hair.  "Yes?" he murmured.</p>
<p>"Tell me another story," she pleaded in hushed tones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta readers Meg W and Alix Sinclair. Originally posted in 1997 under my real name.

He'd found another one. 

Methos sighed, running his hands lightly along Alexa's hair, smoothing it as she rested against his chest. Her face was nuzzled against his neck, her hand resting lightly on his chest, one leg flung casually over his. She looked utterly content, as content as Methos himself felt.

Another snuggler. He didn't know what it was about him that always drew the snugglers. He didn't mind - and if he let himself be truthful, he enjoyed it. Having a warm body pressed tightly against your own, the closeness...what wasn't to like? It felt warm and safe, and if there was one thing he wanted Alexa to feel, it was safe.

"Adam," she sighed, shifting herself even closer to him as she drifted in and out of sleep. 

Methos closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against her hair. "Yes?" he murmured.

"Tell me another story," she pleaded in hushed tones. 

Methos couldn't help but smile. He had been telling her his life, a little every night, masking it in fairy tales. It helped Alexa fall asleep, and it gave his soul some peace. "All right; what do you want to hear about tonight? Pick any time in history," he reminded her, though she knew his rule. He would tell her absolutely anything, as long as it was a real time in history. 

She thought a minute, then decided, "Babylon. Tell me about the Tower of Babel."

Settling back against the headboard, Methos launched into a vivid description of the Tower, the Gardens, and the people. He made her giggle at his jokes about Nebuchadnezzar II, then sigh as he described the death of Alexander the Great. Before long, she drifted to sleep, nestled in his arms. 

His eyes were drawn to the mirror across from the hotel bed, and the image of the two of them together. Despite all their time spent in the sun, neither had darkened. Alexa looked paler than he, if that could be believed. He watched as his fingers absently traced her jaw, unable to see their fine trembling as they brushed along her sharp cheekbones. He felt his heart catch in his chest, the weight of her illness settling firmly on his shoulders. She tired easily now, and he was doing everything in his power to make things easier on her, going so far as to alter their schedule, mostly without her knowledge. Instead of hopping from country to country as he initially planned, now they were taking long stretches through countries by train, so as to see as much of one place as possible. 

Thinking back over the past few months, Methos was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency. Alexa still had so much to see of the world. They had lingered five weeks in Egypt, where she marveled at the Pyramids and the Valley of the Kings. Possibly too long. He didn't want to admit what his eyes were showing him in the mirror: Alexa was growing weaker. He feared she wouldn't be strong enough to travel much more. He only hoped he had enough time to tell her his whole life, a night at a time.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her thin frame, a sense of calmness settling over him. Memories of the start of their journey replaced his current thoughts, and he smiled, remembering the first few days of their "New World Tour."

~~~~~~

Methos decided to show Alexa more of nature's wonders than the man-made tourist attractions. He made exceptions for the really big ones, like Fort Knox, the Statue of Liberty, and Big Ed's All-Nite Taco Stand. She was more than content with that, absorbing the beauty of the land around her. 

They were a few days out of Seacouver, driving down the Pacific Coast Highway. The sun was setting as they pulled over beside the seashore. Methos offered a hand to help Alexa out of the van. They removed their shoes and socks, then began walking barefoot along the beach. Alexa laughed as they dodged the incoming tide, careful of the debris the water washed up. As the sun started to slip into the water, they stood side by side, watching it. Suddenly, her hand snaked into his, her slender fingers curling around his own. His hand tightened around hers, and he felt his heart fill.

That was the first sign of intimacy she had shown him since they left Seacouver. But the simple act of reaching out and taking his hand had won over his heart. It had been a long time since he'd let anyone close to him; opened himself to trust someone again. She broke down those barriers with her smile, and a few choice barbs tossed his way at their first meeting. 

The sun finished its path into the ocean and they returned to the van, the warm feeling still with them.   
Driving on for a bit more, Methos finally pulled into a nice-looking motel for the night. Alexa waited in the car while Methos got their customary two rooms, then he walked her to her door. They paused outside her room, the familiar awkwardness returning. Despite her trust in him to accompany her across the country, and possibly the world, she was still wary of him.

Alexa stared at Methos, begging him with her eyes to understand. "Adam, you're sweet, and I do like you, but..."

"I wouldn't dream of imposing," he assured her with a sweeping bow. Methos captured one of her delicate hands in his and touched it to his lips. "Good night, fair maiden. Would you do me the honor of dining with me when the sun makes its majestic appearance at the dawn?"

His flowery speech caused her to laugh. "You're crazy, Adam Pierson. But I will meet you for breakfast," she promised, squeezing his hand as a sort of pact.

"Til then." He made another sweeping bow, one arm tucked behind his back, then went back to his own room, the smile never completely leaving his face.

Their journey took them down the west coast, across the desert and the Grand Canyon, then upwards to Colorado and the Rockies. Going from arid desert to snow-capped mountains in two days delighted Alexa, bringing color to her cheeks. The weight of her illness was lifting, and she was enjoying herself. Her smile came more readily as the days wore on, her laughter louder and brighter. And, to Methos, she grew even more beautiful. As Methos spent more time with her, he noticed something different about her, but couldn't quite tell what it was...

They wandered from the lodge, taking in the peaceful quiet of the surrounding forest. The new-fallen snow crunched under their feet; the scent of pine was thick in the air. 

Suddenly, Alexa flung her arms wide and dropped backwards into the deep snow, laughing. "Come on, Adam! Make a snow angel!" She waved her arms and legs, forming the wings and robe.

Smothering his smile, Methos took a deep breath and dropped backwards into the deep pile, sinking immediately. "It's freezing!" he exclaimed, laughing anyway.

"It's snow; it's supposed to be freezing!" Alexa chided him good-naturedly, rolling over on top of him. 

"Ooof," he gasped, wrapping his arms around her.

She playfully punched him in his coat-covered chest. "I don't weigh that much," she joked lightly.

Methos immediately sobered, brushing her snow-filled hair back off of her face. He hadn't intend to remind her of her illness, especially not when she was having such a good time. "I'm sorry," he apologized immediately, instinctively brushing her lips softly with his own. His eyes widened as he realized what he just did, and he abruptly changed the subject. "It's too cold out here. How about going to the lodge for some hot cocoa? It'll warm us up."

She pushed all her weight on him, refusing to let him up. "I can think of other things to warm us up, Adam," she teased, grinning at his astonished expression.

"Alexa!" he cried, trying to keep his scandalized face intact, but he dissolved into giggles about the same time she did. 

Floundering, still laughing, she got herself to her feet, then offered her hand for Methos. He clutched it, feeling electricity run up his arm, and his laughter died away. "Come on, let's go inside," he murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

~~~~~~~

They continued across America, stopping in various cities to see the sights. Every few states, Alexa would send a postcard back to Joe's, letting her ex-boss and friend know that they were all right. For Methos, she was more than a breath of fresh air into his stale world. He truly marveled at her enthusiasm. She felt everything passionately, and made him feel it with her. Alexa made each city come alive for him, but one city would forever remain dear to his heart: Chicago. For in a suburb of Chicago, another unspoken barrier between them fell. They shared one room.

Methos leaned against the front desk, waiting for the night clerk. He yawned; so much for making it an early night. Alexa wanted to see a baseball game, and it went into extra...somethings...she tried to explain it to him, but he was hopeless. He had no interest in the organized sports of today. He could remember when it was a matter of pride in one's own country, or one's own bravery. The bell above the door tinkled, and he turned, his eyes lighting up as he saw Alexa.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked as she walked over to him, wrapping her arm around his waist - fitting against him perfectly.

"No, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering what was taking you so long." Alexa spared a glance around the lobby, then turned her gaze back to Adam. "No help tonight?"

"Very little," Methos grumbled. His arm tightened around her. "Did you want to try the other hotel?"

Alexa shook her head. "No. I want this one. Here he is," she murmured as the clerk returned, his face flushed.

"I am so sorry," the middle-aged man apologized. "Now, how can I help you?"

"We'd like two rooms, please," Methos answered promptly, snapping his credit card onto the countertop.

"We'd like one room, please. Double beds," Alexa's soft voice corrected Methos' statement. Her hand rested on top of Methos', and she looked up at him with a smile in her eyes. "Adam, you're wasting money by getting two rooms. We can share."

"I...are you sure?" Methos asked, feeling himself grow warm. 

"I'm sure," she assured him, blinding him with her smile.

"Sir?" the clerk asked, though he was smiling.

Methos hadn't been able to keep from returning the smile. "You heard the lady. One room, double beds."

~~~~~~

Alexa shifted in Methos' arms, dragging him from his memories. He sighed, carefully pulling the comforter up over both of them. He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep. He hadn't slept much, preferring to stay awake and watch Alexa sleep. Their time together blurred before him, and he wondered just how long it had really been since they stuffed the van full of hopes and took off across America. Weeks? Months? It felt like years, but at the same time, mere minutes. With her, each second was precious, at the same time an eternity and fleeting. 

Roanoke, Virginia. Methos smiled, remembering. The last barrier between them was broken in Roanoke.

~~~~~~

Methos pulled into the hotel, and again, Alexa waited in the car while he got their room. But as they took their traditional walk from the van to the room, she slipped her hand into his. After they sorted out their luggage, she locked the door and turned to face him.

There was something different about her stance as she looked at him. Her eyes sparkled, teasing with some knowledge that Methos did not have. As she moved toward him, he noticed her walk was even different; slower, swingier, and if he didn't know better, seductive. She stopped in front of him, resting her hands lightly on his chest. His breathing quickened at her touch, his eyes growing a bit wider as he felt the heat she radiated. 

Her eyes searched his face, as one hand came up to trace his jaw. Her touch was light, fingertips just brushing his skin, feeling the rough stubble of a days' growth of beard. Whispering, "Adam, stay with me tonight," she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly.

"What?" he croaked, staring at her, trying to regain his composure.

Her amused smile cut right through him. She tilted her head to the side, blowing lightly in his ear. "I don't think your hearing is bad," she murmured. Then she leaned in closer, squinting as she looked into his eyes. "And your eyesight seems normal." 

"Well, yes, but..." Methos stammered, feeling as if the wind been knocked out of him. 

"But what?" Her clear eyes held his, assuring him, while at the same time, frightening him. 

"Alexa," he breathed, his gut churning. "Alexa, I don't want to hurt you."

She placed her hands on his shoulders, fixing him with her serious gaze. "You could never hurt me. You couldn't do anything to me that I haven't already done to myself."

His eyes narrowed as he frowned in concentration. "No, not true."

She pulled her head back a bit. "What?"

His expression softened as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "You've never allowed yourself to be loved, have you? You've kept people at a distance, not letting them care about you too much. To spare them pain. Am I close?" he asked softly. 

Her breath caught; he could feel the heat of her skin under his hand. Color filled her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she regarded him. "Too close," she murmured under her breath. Louder, she added, "No, I haven't let anyone get that close to me in a long time. But with you, I feel I can. Why is that? What makes you so special?" 

"I don't know," Methos answered honestly. "Don't you know?"

"I just might," she answered him steadily, moving closer. "But can you love me, Adam Pierson?"

Methos swallowed hard. "Oh, I can," he whispered, bending down to kiss her softly, his lips barely brushing hers. "I do," he murmured softly. Pulling back, the concern was back in his eyes. "Are you sure? Do you trust me?"

"Yes." She kissed him quickly. "And yes," she breathed, bringing his head down and kissing him firmly, her fingers threading through his short hair.

~~~~~

From that time on, they shared one hotel room and one double bed. Methos again wondered if he was hurting her more than he was helping her. Taking her away from the life she known; from her friends in Seacouver, from Joe. Giving her this life, the one she thought she could never have...only for it to be taken from her in a few short months. Each place they went to, while neither said anything, it was in the backs of their minds; she would not be able to return for a visit. Once they were through a city, it was behind them, a memory. Methos wasn't sure if that was good for her, either. But the sheer joy that lit her face at each new city, each new experience, was answer enough. He had made the right decision. Wherever they went, whatever they did, Alexa would be happy. He swore it to himself, and to her.

~~~~~~~

When they reached New York, he took her to the JFK ticket counter, asking where she would like to go next. 

She thought for a minute, giving his question her full concentration, then lifted her sparkling eyes. "Egypt," she stated firmly. "And I want a story for every ruin we visit."

He laughed; little did she know he probably did have a story for every ruin. But he obliged, and they touched down in Cairo, where they were greeted by blistering heat.

"Wow," she breathed, trying to take in as much of the foreign culture as possible in her first five minutes on the ancient soil.

"Let's get past Customs, then you can wow all you want." He nudged her with his carry-on. 

Alexa glared back at him, and he smiled charmingly at her. Her glare dissolved into that smile again, the one that he felt in his gut. "All right." Her smile turned nervous as the came up on the Customs office, and she shot him frequent glances for reassurance.

Methos leaned down and whispered to her, "Don't worry; I speak a bit of Arabic," as their turn came. She stared at him in shock as he spoke rapidly to the Customs officer. The officer nodded, then turned to her, smiling. 

"Enjoy Egypt, Ms. Bond," he said in a thick accent, bowing slightly. "And you, Mr. Pierson."

"Th- thank you," she stammered, bewildered. Adam once again spoke to the officer, then they were through Customs and out on the street, blinking in the harsh light.

"You said you spoke a bit of Arabic," she accused mildly. "That was more than a bit."

"Don't you like surprises?" he teased gently, then caught the look on her face. "No, you don't. All right. I wasn't kidding when I said I spoke Russian, and of course Arabic. I'm a connoisseur of languages."

"How many languages do you speak?" she asked in a slightly awed voice.

Methos closed his eyes, debating how many to tell her without raising suspicion; wondering how many would be too many for her to accept. "Ten," he finally tossed out, searching her face. It must have been acceptable, because the accusatory light left her eyes.

"Ten? Which ones?" she asked as they waited for an unoccupied taxi.

He thought fast. "English, of course. The first two I mentioned, Greek, a bit of Chinese, French, Spanish, Italian, German and...Portuguese." He paused, grinning sheepishly. "I lied about speaking Swahili. I hope you can forgive me."

The look of awe returned to her eyes. "You really have traveled a lot."

"All my life," he answered softly.

"That must get lonely," she mused.

Methos inhaled sharply. Alexa never ceased to amaze him. There was a depth to her that startled him; he guessed he had the same affect on her. That thought caused him to smile. Not many people got to him this badly. But, Alexa wasn't just anyone. "Yes, it does," he admitted softly. His arm curled around her shoulder, drawing her close. "But I meet people along the way to make it easier," he whispered in her ear, kissing the lobe.

A shiver went through her then, her arms snaking around his waist as her head rested against his shoulder.

The same shoulder that she leaned against now, in a hotel room just inside Geneva's city limits. Methos held her as she slept, a delicate woman now frail as she slipped further out of his grasp. She had an appointment at the local hospital in the morning. Methos took each new diagnosis stoically, though inside his heart ached. Less and less time, each and every time they stepped foot inside a hospital. If he dreaded them before, now he loathed the sight of even a mere hospital sign. 

They were scheduled to depart Geneva for Helsinki in two days. He hated to think about it, but she was beginning to look too frail to make these long train journeys. Flying been ruled out by the last doctor, in Berlin. Methos sighed. Berlin had depressed her too much, and, he had to admit, it left him with bad memories as well. He had to leave her in Berlin, to help MacLeod with his Dark Quickening. Calling Joe, then Rachael, then flying to La Havre, then chasing MacLeod over half of France...

Methos' disciplined mind chose another path at random, a self-defense mechanism he developed long ago. Never dwell on the past, you couldn't change it, only accept it. His mind bounced from thought to thought, finally picturing Alexa on the shores of Santorini; remembering how the Mediterranean matched the color of her eyes. He had noticed it the first time she set foot on the beach. They stayed on the beach, all day, just soaking up the sun and the laughter of those around them.

Methos closed his eyes, letting the warm memories surround him again...

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, staring out over the Mediterranean.

His hand faltered on her leg, where he was absently stroking her skin. "Doing what?"

"This," Alexa waved to the ocean before them. "Taking me on a whirlwind tour of the world. You didn't have to."

Methos replied seriously, "I wanted to. I thought I made that clear before we left."

"I know." She turned to him then, the warm breeze tossing her hair about her shoulders carelessly. "But what are you getting out of it? All the money you've spent on me..."

He cupped her chin and kissed her softly. "I inherited a fortune when my father died; don't worry about the money," he lied smoothly. His expression grew serious as he answered her next question. "As for what I'm getting out of this, I'm enjoying the company of a lovely lady, who has a great sense of humor and a wonderful laugh." He brushed the hair away from her face, letting his fingers caress her cheek. His voice dropped to a desperate whisper as he answered her last question. "And as for why I'm doing it...I love you."

Color bloomed on her cheeks instantly, and she had to look away from the intensity in his eyes. "But you hardly know me."

"I know enough. I know you like history. I know you love buttery popcorn and funny movies. I know you love taking walks along the beach. I know you love to get into heated debates about jazz musicians." He chuckled softly. "And I know you really, really hate opera."

She briefly smiled, then became serious as she absorbed his words. "Then how can you stay with me, knowing it will end soon?" she asked quietly.

The gentlest brush of his fingers under her chin turned her head until she faced him. "How can I not?"

Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she studied his face. Her small frown was slowly replaced by a look of wonder. She finally shook her head. "I give up. Adam, you're impossible!"

"Part of my charm," he quipped instinctively, covering his raw emotions. "And I will stay with you, and be here for you, for as long as you need me."

"I need you," she whispered, falling against his shoulder. Together, they watched the sun set in a myriad of reddish hues, from the deepest crimson to the lightest pink, streaked across the sky.

~~~~~~

Methos sighed, turning his head toward the window. It looked like the sun just cracked the horizon; it was dawn. Alexa shifted again, and he felt the heat of her body against his. He closed his eyes and reveled in it for a minute, then he frowned. She was too hot. Carefully resting a hand on her forehead, he felt the heat radiating from her.

"Alexa," he whispered, giving her a gentle shake. "Alexa, honey, wake up."

She mumbled, wiping the back of her hand across her face. "Hot," she murmured.

Methos could feel her labored breathing against his body and felt a cold chill settle over his heart. Slipping out of bed, he dressed quickly. Leaning over Alexa, he carefully dressed her, then carried her to the car. After she was securely belted in, he slid behind the steering wheel and took off as fast as he dared, rushing to the hospital.

~~~~~~~

"Not yet, not yet," Methos whispered as he paced the hospital corridor, waiting for word on Alexa. She still too much to see, too much to experience. She couldn't be taken from him yet...

"Mr. Pierson?" a thickly accented voice called.

Methos whirled to face the doctor. "Yes?"

"I'm afraid it is not good. Her body is just too weak. Her heart is failing her. She does not have much time."

"There is nothing you can do?" Methos asked, unconsciously slipping into French.

The doctor showed mild surprise, which was quickly overshadowed by his sadness. "No, I am afraid not. There is nothing anyone can do for her now." 

Methos nodded, thanking the doctor for his time and help. "Can I see her?"

"Of course. This way." Methos followed the doctor to her room, resting his hand on the door. The coldness of the wood permeated his soul, and he shivered. Gathering himself, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

~~~~~~

He stayed with her until she fell asleep, then stole quietly out into the hall. He returned to the hotel and called Joe Dawson, updating him on Alexa's condition. 

"So she doesn't have much time?" Joe's voice was soft, barely heard over the noise of the bar.

"No, she doesn't," Methos replied, keeping a tight rein on his emotions. "Did you want to see her?" he asked, knowing Joe cared for as if she was his daughter.

"I- yes, I would. But I can't..."

"Joe," Methos interrupted him, "I'll have a ticket waiting for you at the airport. We're in Geneva." He gave Joe some flight information and the name of the hospital Alexa was at. He hung up, then dropped his head into his hands. Nothing. There was nothing anyone could do for her.

Methos refused to accept that. There were always choices; there was always another way.

He lay back on the bed, letting his mind wander. He marveled at her strength and courage. He wondered briefly if he had ever faced death as bravely as she, but shoved the thought aside. His life didn't matter; Alexa's did. And he was determined to find a way to save her. His mind sifted through the past few months, his years with the Watchers...he bolted upright, reaching for the phone. Dialing with precision, he asked for a flight to Paris, non-stop, as soon as possible. He was on a plane in two hours, heading to Watcher Headquarters.

~~~~~~~

Empty handed and with a heavy heart, Methos returned to Geneva. He had gone after the Methuselah Stone, the only thing on the face of the planet that could have saved Alexa, and he had failed. On the plane ride back, all he could see were the pieces of the crystal falling into the river. Moving swiftly with the current, being carried out to the sea, away from him. He had wanted to give Alexa immortality, and had nearly lost his own life in the process. He had done all he could, and it wasn't enough. Hailing a cab, he gave instructions to the driver to take him to the hospital. He would try to explain, and ask for her forgiveness that he couldn't save her.

~~~~~~

Methos walked down the too-familiar hospital corridor with his head down, nearly running right into Joe, who was just coming out of Alexa's room.

"Whoa, Adam," Joe said softly, dragging the Immortal out of his introspection.

"Joe? Sorry, didn't see you there." There was a haunted look in Methos' eyes, one that Joe recognized. Failure. "How is she?" he dared to ask, his voice catching in his throat.

Joe closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly. Placing a hand on Methos' shoulder, he offered the Immortal what comfort he could. "She's nearly gone, Adam. It's time to say good-bye."

Methos nodded once, taking a deep breath. He covered Joe's hand with his own, returning the comfort. Then he released the mortal, pushing the door open. He stepped lightly into the darkened hospital room, swallowing hard. She looked tiny in the bed, her skin as white as the sheets, and he very nearly backed out of the room. A fine tremor wracked his body, but he forced himself forward, ignoring the equipment surrounding his beloved. The sounds assaulted his senses though; the hissing of the respirator, the erratic beeps of the monitors, the steady hum of life-support. 

"Alexa, I'm back," he whispered, unfolding the cane/chair he had brought along. Regular chairs were too big, and this was small and light enough, so that if anything happened, he could move it in an instant. He perched carefully on the narrow seat, then took Alexa's small, cold left hand in his. "I'm sorry I was away so long; I went looking for something." He bowed his head, silently asking for her forgiveness that he couldn't bring it back to her. The Methuselah Stone was lost to the Seine, and Alexa was lost to him.

At the light pressure on his hand, he looked up. Alexa was staring at him, or more accurately, her gaze was fixed in his direction. She was too weak to even focus. 

Taking a ragged breath, he forced himself to ask, "Would you like to hear a story?"

Her fingers lightly brushed along his palm, sending a jolt of emotion through his Quickening. Rarely did a mortal do that to him, but she did. She always did. "All right, then. Once upon a time there was this prince. Not an overly handsome fellow, but passable by today's standards. One day, as he was riding back to his kingdom, he came across this beautiful woman, a princess. She was elegant and graceful, yet she didn't give him the time of day. The prince tried to strike up conversation, but the princess turned her back on him."

Alexa's grip slackened, but Methos continued, tears falling from his eyes. 

"Little did he realize the princess was just frightened of him, for she had never seen him before in her kingdom. He introduced himself as Methos, and offered his hand to her. She took it, and he kissed it gallantly. The princess was won over, and he escorted her back to her kingdom and her father, the king, where he asked for her hand in marriage. The king refused, saying the prince was not worthy of his daughter's hand. The prince then challenged the rightful suitor to a duel. Naturally, the prince won, in a brilliant display of swordsmanship and courage. The king was won over, and gave his daughter's hand to the prince. They were married within the week, and when the old king died, they became rulers over both the lands, and lived happily ever after."

Methos remembered to breathe, slow, in and out, take your time. Control. Precision. When he himself under what he considered enough control, he rose from the chair, folding it neatly. He leaned it against the far wall, then turned back to face her. He leaned over and took her hand, kissing her knuckles lightly. 

"What the princess never knew, was that she had softened the prince's heart. He had been a cold man, shut off from the world, before he saw her. He didn't think the cost of love was great enough anymore. But the princess proved him wrong, and Methos was forever grateful to her." Methos couldn't see; his eyes were blurred by tears. He leaned down and kissed her one last time.

"Sleep well, fair Alexa," he whispered. He turned and headed for the door, brushing past the nurse who came when the monitors went off. She had heard the last of his story, and didn't want to interrupt him; instead, remaining in the hallway, out of sight. There was nothing she could have done for Alexa, anyway. She wiped at an errant tear, turned off the equipment, and went to inform the other gentleman who was there to visit the young woman.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated in loving memory of Selma Woerndle and Bill Sanders.


End file.
